The Folks

Ruth Suckow

Publication Year: 1992

Here is an introspective, poignant portrait of an American family during a time of sweeping changes. Now nearly sixty years after it first appeared, Suckow's finest work still displays a thorough realism in its characters' actions and aspirations; the uneasy compromises they are forced to make still ring true.

Suckow's talent for retrospective analysis comes to life as she examines her own people&mdash;Iowans, descendants of early settlers&mdash;through the lives of the Ferguson family, living in the fictional small town of Belmond, Iowa. Using her gift of creating three-dimensional, living characters, Suckow focuses on personal differences within the family and each member's separate struggle to make sense of past and present, to confront a pervasive sense of loss as a way of life disappears.

Cover

Title Page, Copyright Page

Contents

Foreword

Ruth Suckow (1892- 1960) is one of a small group of Iowa authors
of short stories and novels whose work attracted the attention of
major reviewers, literary historians, and critics. Her reputation is
based on eight novels, three short novels, five collections of short
stories, some stories published only in magazines, and several critical...

Part 1: The Old Folks

Part 2: The Good Son

I. The Young People

THE assembly room of the high school was always restless
at this last period in the afternoon. Whispers went
about—a gust of laughter hastily suppressed as the
teacher in charge began clearing her desk. The little grade
children were out already, and their voices sounded high and
clear from the other building, a block away, as they went...

II. Commencement

As soon as the academic procession had passed out of the
church into the openness of the hot noon sunlight, the Senior
class began to scatter. The little group who had received
honorary degrees (mostly Presbyterian ministers) had to be
detained on the lawn for a final photograph for the church...

III. Homecoming

Lillian had left the room softly so as not to disturb Carl,
he had been so busy these last few weeks of school, and up so
many nights. But he came down to breakfast soon after the
others. He looked fresh and brushed this morning. The children
were in their faded play suits—summer had begun...

Part 3: The Loveliest Time of the Year

DOROTHY was just waking up. She was under orders
to sleep as long as she could. First of all, she recognized
the quality of the sunlight—this summer sunlight,
flecked by the leafy green of the trees outside, lying in a square,
pulled slightly out of shape, on the polished floor; and then the
air, scented with grass cut early in the morning...

Part 4: The Other Girl

I. The Hidden Time

MARGARET had locked her door again. At least she
had a door that would lock. That was her one consolation
in this house. It gave her a savage pleasure
to shut herself in with her own misery and to keep the folks
outside. She lay on the floor—the bed was too soft for her
wretchedness—and her head rolled from side to side. ...

II. Basement Apartment

MARGARET sat in the train, in the green velvet seclusion
of her Pullman section. She looked out at the
stations between the wide stretches of country. But
somewhere in her mind, beneath these actual sights, was the
memory of the car drawn up beside the station platform; and
she could still see the folks as they stood there together, looking...

III. And It Had a Green Door

WHAT was it that gave this queer sense of familiarity?
Then Margot remembered. She used to live
on this street! She used to pass this small Italian
bakery every day. Over there on the corner was the pet shop
before which she used to stand looking at the smoky ears and
jewel eyes of the Siamese cats. Her own little cat. ...

IV. After the End of the Story

MARGOT woke up with a sense of rest. It was like a
dream to be back in her old room. Her own curtains
were at the window, carefully laundered; and the
rickety little desk stood locked as she had left it. The folks had
kept everything for her exactly as it had been before—hoping,
she supposed, that she would finally come home....

5. The Youngest

An agent selling silk stockings rang the bell at the Ferguson
house. No one answered, and after ringing
again and waiting, he retreated. Only when he had
got past the place, he saw "the lady of the house" out in the
garden talking to a workman. He thought of seeking her there.
But the poor fellow (who had started out as a preacher...

6. The Folks

ALL this week it had been warm. And yet, most of the
leaves were gone, showing that it was almost November. The trees stood branching dark against the
blue, and around the heavy trunks the leaves lay thick, yellow
and yellow-green, still soft, almost tender, and freshly fallen.
But it had been pleasant like this for such a while...

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